


Amnesia is an Artform

by Six_Furies



Series: Six Furies AUs [1]
Category: Six Furies
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amnesia, Gen, Hospitalization, I Don't Even Know, Pancakes, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 13:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Furies/pseuds/Six_Furies
Summary: Cecil can't remember anything. Nothing at all. Nope. Zilch. But she's smart, she'll figure it out. At least the hospital trip gives her an excuse not to help Kirashea clean up after her disastrous attempt at making breakfast.This fic was inspired by the first book of Amber.





	Amnesia is an Artform

She came back into awareness slowly. First it was the incessant beeping noise coming from her left, then the rough material under her and the scratchy feeling in her throat. She moved to try and turn off the alarm clock--must be, most logical explanation--but she found her arms had stopped obeying her mind; they would not move. Well this won’t do. She struggled with the overwhelming heaviness of her limbs for a moment, before her eyes finally opened and she could take in the surrounding area.

White ceiling and walls, something--mask--over her nose and mouth. Tubes? Hospital then, or clinic. The beeping on her left was louder now, and faster. That must be a heart monitor. The hospital staff must have noticed around the same time she did, because a nurse entered the room shortly. She busied herself with the machine, trying to figure out what has caused the rapid change in heartbeat, until she noticed her charge’s eyes were open. 

“Oh! You’re awake. That’s good. Your friends have been driving me up the wall, asking when you’d wake up.” The nurse smiled kindly. “I’ll just go and tell Dr. Angevine you’re up.”  
The nurse bustled out of the room as quickly as she had come, leaving her alone to her thoughts. So, friends. That’s interesting, I don’t remember any friends. Wait. She paled. I don’t remember how I got here, or why. I don’t even remember my name! I’ve just been calling myself “she” the entire time. Well that’s great! Now I have amnesia.  
At that moment the door opened and two women came bounding in. They immediately started towards the hospital bed and began speaking over each other in excitement, assaulting her ears with a cacophony of noise. She flinched back. These must be the friends then. They’re quite… loud. 

The women stopped speaking then, noticing her reaction. When they began again it was slower, and one at a time.  
“Hello Cecil,” the shorter, Middle Eastern? one said, ”We’re glad to see you awake.” Alright then. I must be Cecil, and these are my friends. If this really is amnesia and not just the aftereffects of some drug, they should be the ones I speak to first. Cecil moved to speak, but hesitated. What am I doing? I don’t know these people. Why should I trust them? She pursed her lips. I can't let them know my condition until I know I can trust them. The other, light-haired one frowned.  
“Are you alright, Cecil?” 

Right. They are my friends, so greet them with familiarity, sarcasm. Sarcasm’s good. Cecil raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure, I think you might have damaged my hearing with all that noise.”

“I should hope not.” a man she had not noticed before spoke up from the back of the room. That must be Dr. Angevine. “We don’t need any complications.”  
The darker woman elbowed the other and muttered, ”Yeah Kirashea.” Defiantly Middle Eastern. The newly named Kirashea turned to glare at her, and she stuck out her tongue. Cecil sighed. How do I manage to put up with them? They’re already driving me up the wall!

Electing to ignore the two for the time being, she spoke instead to Dr. Angevine. “How long have I been out?” I can afford to be confused on that, everyone is. He smiled.  
“Not long enough to worry us, less than a day. You’ve been looked at already, so you are ready to leave if you want. I know not many people like waiting for long.”  
Kirashea smiled graciously at him. “Thank you.” 

After checking out of the hospital, and what was with that? Shouldn't it be harder to just walk out ? the unnamed woman led Cecil and Kirashea to her car, where she immediately called shotgun. Cecil was a bit bemused at how quickly everything was happening. Shouldn’t I have had to answer questions, or been checked out before leaving? But since no one else seemed to care, she didn’t bring it up. It was probably already explained. 

“Cecil, do you want Wendy’s or Popeye's for dinner?” The shorter woman’s voice brought her back to the present, but before she could answer, Kirashea protested, “I thought I was making dinner!”

Cecil snorted at the look of utter disgust that crossed the other’s face. “Kiki, never in a million years has anyone ever agreed to let you cook.”  
Kirashea, Kiki, glared at her. “We are not having fast food for dinner after Cecil just got out of the hospital.” 

They had Popeye’s.

All too soon they finished eating and pulled up to an apartment complex. This time, Kiki led the way up the stairs and unlocked the door to what Cecil assumed was their shared apartment. The framed image on the mantel only shows Kiki and I, but there are three pairs of boots in the doorway. The shorter woman--I really need something better to call her--went straight to the bedroom on the left, locking the door behind her. Kiki noticed Cecil's somewhat miffed expression and explained, “She’s just being grumpy. Now, I’m going to go straight to bed. If you need anything, call us. You did just get out of the hospital!” Cecil nodded and said, “Goodnight, Kiki.”

“Goodnight, Cecil!” Kirashea closed the door to her room, leaving Cecil alone. She slowly opened the door to the only bedroom not taken and made her way over to the bed stand. People keep important things on their bed stands, right? Olivia ignored the lamp and the burgundy scarf for now, instead electing to examine a small, wooden picture frame.  
She found herself in the image first, then the shorter women she still didn’t know the name of and Kate. They were standing with three other women in front of a small, colorful building. A man in a suit was cutting the red ribbon strung up in front of the building with a large pair of golden scissors. She opened the back of the frame, and the words written in black ink on the back of the picture read “Kirashea, Fadia, Helen, Lemon, Jacqueline, and I at the opening of The Candy Emporium. 06/19/2004.” Helen, Lemon, and Jacqueline must be the ones I don’t recognize. I know Kirashea, which means my unnamed friend is Fadia. Good to know. 

The other drawers were filled only with nightgowns, and the closet would be too large of a project for tonight, so Cecil changed and got ready for bed. As she lay under the covers, what she was doing really hit her. I’m living with people I don't know, but know me. I'm sleeping in a bed I don't remember, pretending I do. This is insane! And she grinned as she drifted off to sleep.

Cecil woke up to the sound of someone cursing. It was followed by the putrid smell of burning plastic and the beeping of a fire alarm. She quickly grabbed a robe from the dresser and dashed into the kitchen. She was met with a sight she would never forget, even if I get amnesia again. Fadia was waving a large, checkered towel at the smoke detector, shouting at Kiki. She was running around like a headless chicken, holding a burning spatula. Two deformed pancakes hung from the ceiling. 

Why am I not surprised? “Kirashea, put the spatula in the sink and turn on the water. Fadia, and I am lucky I learned your name, turn off the oven and help me open the windows,” she ordered. Fadia smirked. “Are you kidding me? I’m going to work. You’re on your own.” She darted out the door before Cecil could call her back. Of course. Cecil rolled her eyes and started opening windows. After Kiki put out the spatula fire--spatula fire--it was quick work to rid the apartment of smoke. 

Kirashea turned to her, grinning. “Want any pancakes?” 

“No!” Cecil quickly answered, before amending, “I’ll be fine with cereal.” Kirashea frowned at that. She must have really worked hard on those pancakes.  
“Okay,” she said, “but can I talk to you in the living room after?” Cecil nodded distractedly and began eating. 

After breakfast, she found Kirashea waiting in the living room. “You wanted to talk to me?” Cecil questioned, skeptical. What could she want? Have I messed up somehow, or is it just worry? I did just get out of the hospital. Kirashea grinned. It wasn’t a nice grin. “I’ve been doing some research Cecil, and what I’ve found is very interesting.” Oh dear. “You see, it turns out strokes can lead to lots of health complications, like paralysis, blindness, amnesia.” Cecil grit her teeth and kept her worry off of her face. She knows.  
Kiki’s smile turned saccharine as she snapped, “What is your name?” Cecil was taken aback. What? “Cecil Mae Gracelyn.” Business card. Kiki’s eyes narrowed. “What is you favorite color?” Cecil let a small smile creep onto her face. My bedroom is mostly a light tan, however the color of my nails and the scarf on the bedside table… “Red.” Kiki frowned for a moment, but then her eyes lit up and took on a triumphant twinkle. “ What... is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” 

What? How is anyone supposed to know that off the top of their head? Cecil stopped her panicked thoughts in their tracks. Right, this is a very niche fact, so it's probably a trick question. “I am afraid I don’t know the answer to that question.” Kirashea let out a triumphant whoop. “I knew it! I knew you were faking it! Cecil never calls me Kiki!”  
Cecil glared at her, furious. I was having fun with this, dammit! “Yes, Kiki's right; Cecil has amnesia! Just shout it to the world, would you!” she snapped. 

Kiki laughed, completely unfazed. “Why would I do that? This will be the most fun I’ve had in ages!”  
Now Cecil was just confused. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Kirashea was grinning again now, her eyes lit up with glee. “I’m going to help you of course! You obviously need it. I mean, I’ve seen Jacqueline lie better than that. First though, let’s get you up-to-date on everything you need to know, okay? You haven’t even met the other three!” 

Cecil smirked, her anger forgotten. This must be why I like her. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a narrative writing for school, which is why it's so short. You can find me on Tumblr @sixfuries. I regret nothing.


End file.
